


On Point

by tlakht



Series: Spice it Up [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: BDSM, Dom Castiel/Sub Dean Winchester, Fluff, M/M, Needle play, Needles, Praise Kink, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-23 21:45:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18558475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tlakht/pseuds/tlakht
Summary: Dean and Cas try needle play for the first time.





	On Point

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction, not a guide on how to do needle play. It may contain inaccuracies. If you're interested in trying needle play, do the proper research first.
> 
> The fic is set sometime in the future after Vanilla or Spice (but you don't have to read that one first). I may add more fics about what's happened inbetween later.

There's no real need for the gloves or the alcohol swabs – not when Cas’s grace would do the trick, but Dean appreciates it anyway. It sets the scene, gets him in the right headspace. It's their first time doing this particular thing, and while he's not worried – it was his idea, after all, and they wouldn't be doing this if he wasn't certain he wanted it – he doesn't know what to expect. The touch of Cas's fingers, almost clinical apart from the comforting way his touch lingers slightly longer than it has to, makes Dean relax into the mattress beneath his back at the same time as it makes him _want_ , makes him anticipate what's to come.

The alcohol chills Dean's skin as it evaporates, leaves goosebumps in its wake, in the area above Dean's nipple and below his clavicle. The other side gets the same treatment, and Dean suppresses a shiver. It always takes a little time for him to let go right at the very beginning of a scene, no matter how many times Cas has seen him whimper and tremble and beg.

Cas has the focus of a surgeon, uncapping the skin marker and beginning to mark Dean's skin where the needles will enter and exit. Dean can tell from the dots that the needles will be inserted diagonally, six above each other on each side, and he can't help but try to imagine what it might feel like when Cas finally inserts the first one. He prefers sharp pain over dull; he likes the sting of a cane, of teeth, the impact of a rubber flogger when Cas wields it just so. He hopes – he thinks – he might enjoy the needles too.

Cas opens a package with one of the 22-gauge needles – not the thickest out of the needles they ordered, but definitely not the thinnest either. Dean wasn’t expecting it, and he’s not sure quite how to feel about it; he thought they’d be working their way up.

Cas catches his eye and sees his apprehension. "Thicker needles are better for areas with thicker skin," he explains in the calm voice he uses whenever he wants to reassure Dean. "That way, the needle won't bend when I apply pressure."

Dean nods. It’s not like he’s truly _scared_ anyway; he never is with Cas. There’s just the usual edge of nerves that he feels whenever they’re going to try something new – the anticipation of a new and different kind of pain that he doesn’t know how he’ll react to. So far, they haven’t tried a single thing he’s absolutely hated; sure, he likes certain things better than others, but Cas never pushes past what Dean is comfortable with. The bond between them helps, tuning Cas in to any genuine dislike Dean has for anything they do, and so Dean doesn’t worry now. If he doesn’t like the first needle, there won’t be a second.

“I’m ready,” he says, because Cas has paused his movements, waiting for Dean to get out of his head.

“You’re certain?”

Dean takes a moment to breathe, and then nods. As usual, his body has already started reacting to the anticipation of a scene with Cas, and somehow the sight of the uncapped needle – the sharp steel of it, about to pierce his skin in just a moment – only heightens his arousal.

With a glance at Dean’s crotch, Cas seems satisfied that Dean’s ready, and he pinches Dean’s skin with his the thumb and index finger on his left hand while he brings the needle up to Dean's skin with his right hand. He starts at the top, right beneath the clavicle, where it's too close for Dean to see properly. There's a sharp sensation, and before Dean knows it, the needle has gone all the way through from one of the blue dots Cas drew to another. It stings, but in the best way possible, and it creates a heat underneath his skin that travels down his body, a zing of pleasure that makes his dick jump. Somehow, there’s no blood at all.

"How was that?" Cas asks, although Dean knows he can tell – he just wants to hear it.

"Fuck. So good, Cas," Dean breathes. He wants to ask for another one, but he knows it's coming anyway. Besides, impatience never gets him anywhere with an angel who has literally lived for millennia, and he doesn't want to prolong the wait.

The second one feels, if possible, better than the first, the sting enhanced by the burning feeling in his skin from the needle already underneath it. Dean's breath stutters, and he's already beginning to wonder whether this may become his new favourite thing for Cas to do to him.

He watches while the bevel of another needle enters his skin, flesh giving way like butter as the needle slides smoothly through it and out the other side. Cas tugs the plastic hub downward, giving the needle an experimental twist, and an involuntary moan tears out of Dean's throat. He's getting more sensitive the closer Cas gets to his nipple, and the twist of the needle stings in a way that makes the edges of his consciousness start to go fuzzy _already,_ but he doesn’t want to go under. He wants to feel every moment of this, so he forces himself to focus his thoughts, to answer Cas when he asks if Dean's all right. To stay here with Cas and the sharp, delicious pain he elicits every time he inserts a new needle, every time he tugs or twists the ones that are already inside.

By the time Cas has finished both sides, Dean's cock is rock hard and leaking. He loves the burn, the sting of the needles, and he loves the way they look in his skin, perfectly spaced and symmetrical.

"You're doing so well, Dean. Can you take more?" Cas asks, and Dean nods. He doesn't even care where; Cas could probably suggest piercing his nipples or his dick right now, and he wouldn't even hesitate.

It's his inner thighs, however, that are wiped with an alcohol swab next, and then Cas is opening packets of higher-gauge needles – thinner needles for the thinner, more delicate skin there. Cas doesn't bother with the marker this time. He most likely doesn't even need it to place the needles perfectly; if there's something Cas has a lot of experience with, it's precision with sharp, pointy things.

Dean knows already that this area is particularly sensitive to pain from when Cas has used the flogger on him here; he hasn't even considered letting Cas use the cane on his inner thighs yet. Even the pinch of Dean's skin between Cas's fingers feels more sensitive here, and Dean is trembling when Cas asks him if he's ready, but he still nods, and then there's a sharp pleasure-pain as the thin needle pierces the delicate skin. When it exits, Cas lets go of the skin and produces a small cork – similar to a wine cork, but much smaller – from somewhere, and presses the end of the needle into it.

"So the needle doesn't puncture the skin on your other thigh," Cas explains, voice soft and intimate. Dean doesn't know if there's any important reason for it; it's not like his skin isn't being punctured anyway, but he appreciates being able to anticipate the pain.

There are five more needles, each one higher up on the inside of Dean's thigh and – unless it's just Dean's imagination due to the increasing closeness to his junk – each one offering a sharper pain, and with it, a feeling of sinking further into the depths of his mind, of detaching from his senses and floating away from Cas.

"'M goin' under," he breathes. "Talk to me."

Despite Cas’s love for putting Dean in subspace, he always understands when Dean just needs to be there in the moment; to be present. "Stay with me. Tell me how this feels, Dean."

Dean's vocabulary is limited at the moment, but he knows Cas won't judge him for it. "Amazing. So, so good. Love it."

Cas inserts a needle into the other thigh and twists it. It threatens to make Dean float again, but he pulls himself back, keening. His dick lies neglected on his stomach, jumping every time a new needle is inserted into his skin, a shiny string of precum connecting it to his belly.

"Keep talking, Dean."

It's hard to focus enough to get words out, but Dean's nothing if not eager to comply when Cas tells him to do something. "Fuck. Wanna do this forever, Cas. Wanna… want you to fuck me—" Cas tugs on another needle, and Dean interrupts himself with a sharp gasp, "—just like this."

Cas hums thoughtfully. "I don't know if that's hygienic. We don't want to risk infection," he says levelly as he inserts a needle, and Dean's high enough on his own mind, on the hormones and chemicals his own body is producing, that he doesn't recognise it as teasing – Cas is an angel, surely hygiene shouldn't matter – and the word _please_ is on his lips when he catches sight of Cas’s gummy smile, the crinkled corners of his eyes.

"Relax,” Cas says, rubbing a comforting thumb over the skin beneath it. “If you can manage to stay with me until I've placed the last needle, we might be able to work something out."

Cas is challenging him, which ironically is the last thing Dean needs, as his body reacts to it by wanting to slip under, but he fights it; fights it when Cas pushes the next needle through slowly, prolonging the burn, fights it when Cas plays with the needle hubs, turning them this way and that, twisting the needles and setting his skin on fire.

Dean's cock is bobbing up and down, alternately straining up in search of friction and dipping down into the small pool of precum beneath it. "Look at you," Cas says, and the awe in his voice reveals that he's not unaffected by what they're doing; by the sight of the needles in Dean and the evidence of his arousal. "You're gorgeous like this. So good for me, Dean. Just three more now. Stay with me, and I'll give you what you want."

It's hard. It usually doesn't take much for Dean to go into subspace when they're doing something he loves; when Cas manipulates his body expertly and praises him on how good he's being. He knows he can trust Cas fully – trusts him with his life – so he never has to worry about letting go. And very often, he _truly_ does; he’ll float so far away that when it's time to come back, Cas has to place gentle hands on his face and ask him to until the words finally register with Dean and his senses begin to come back to him again.

"Stay with me, Dean," Cas says when Dean's eyes flutter closed as the second to last needle enters his skin. "You want me inside you, don't you?"

Dean hangs onto the words; lets them pull him back from the edge. "Yes," he breathes desperately, letting his eyes flutter open again. Yes, he does. He knows it won’t happen if he goes under; they’ve discovered that neither he nor Cas enjoy sex when he’s out of it. Cas doesn’t have a preference between sending Dean into subspace and having sex; he likes both equally, and truth be told, so does Dean, but right now he really wants to feel Cas inside of him.

At odds with Cas’s words – urging Dean not to go under – the last needle is another slow one that threatens to make him do just that, but with an effort to focus on what his reward will be, he manages not to let the pain drag him away from his senses.

“Good boy,” Cas praises once the needle is capped with a cork, voice soft and affectionate as he finally touches Dean’s dick with a gloved hand, giving it a few pumps. Dean is almost painfully hard already, and the attention makes his breath quicken. “You did so well. How do you feel? Do you need anything?”

“I’m fine,” Dean answers, and then adds, “I need your dick in me,” which probably isn’t what Cas meant – he was probably thinking more along the lines of a snack or something to drink – but it seems of utmost importance to Dean right now, and it makes Cas laugh.

“Very well. Hands and knees.”

It’s difficult; Dean’s body seems unwilling to cooperate, and it takes him a few moments to re-establish the connection between mind and body, but finally he manages to roll onto his side and up on all fours.

Cas’s next touch is reverent, a gentle grip on Dean’s hip – gloves gone now – and then Dean feels the tell-tale breath against his backside before Cas’s hands move to spread him open. Dean expects the wet touch that follows, but it still doesn’t fail to draw a sharp breath out of him.

The first five or so times Cas asked for permission to rim him, Dean said no, imagining that it would be gross and awful for Cas. In the end, however, he gave in, curious about the sensation, and he’s since realised that Cas wasn’t curious about it because of the act itself, but because he wanted to see Dean’s reactions to it. And boy, does he react. Nothing – apart from the cane (and, apparently, needles) can get him as hard as fast, and the dual sensation he’s experiencing now of the needles beneath his skin and Cas’s tongue working him open, is making him go crazy.

“Cas,” Dean moans, overcome with arousal. “C’mon, fuck me already.”

It earns him a hard smack on his ass, and his cock approves, jerking upward.

“Are you giving me orders, Dean?”

“No.” Dean hangs his head. “Sorry. I didn’t mean—” He’s unable to continue when a lubed finger – Cas must have used his grace, because the lube should still be in the bedside drawer – pushes inside him and makes him gasp.

“You’re lucky I like you.” Dean can hear the fond smile in Cas’s voice. “I’ll let you get away with it… this time.” The last two words are not an empty threat, Dean knows, but he’s thankful Cas is letting it slide; as much as he acknowledges Cas’s right to punish him (he’s the one who’s granted him that right, after all), he’s happy there won’t be any interruptions right now.

Dean never needs much preparation these days, not with how often he has Cas or a toy inside him and how he's learned to relax his muscles, so Cas doesn’t make him wait. One finger quickly turns to two, twisting and turning for a few moments to make sure Dean’s ready before they’re withdrawn, and then Cas pulls at Dean’s waist. Dean goes willingly up onto just his knees, hovering over Cas’s lap where Cas positions his cock at Dean’s entrance. When he’s lined up, Dean sinks down, slowly, while Cas wraps his arms around Dean’s waist. Cas kisses his neck once he’s seated and murmurs praise in his ear, making Dean blush. It’s not a rare occurrence, but Dean doesn't think he'll ever get used to it – especially when there’s not much pain to distract him from the words – and so he tries to focus on the feeling of the needles again as he starts to move.

His movements make the needles in his thighs burn, the skin stretching as he raises himself up and then jiggling as he bounces in Cas’s lap; he’s not as fit as he used to be, a few extra pounds of fat cushioning certain areas here and there, but Cas never tires of telling Dean how much he loves his body, so Dean’s not as self-conscious about it anymore. And right now, that extra bit of padding is adding to the sensation, so he can’t really complain.

Dean’s arousal is starting build, getting closer and closer to the point where he – with only a little help from his own or Cas’s hand – will be able to tip over the edge into what he can tell will be a glorious orgasm. He tries to go faster, but Cas tightens his arms around his waist and slows him down until the pace is unbearably slow, just the barest movement of Cas’s cock inside him. But then Cas reaches one hand up to Dean’s chest and another down to Dean’s thigh, his fingers plucking at the needle hubs, making Dean involuntarily arch his back against Cas and gasp.

“You enjoy the needles,” Cas observes. “A lot. Do you think you can reach orgasm without a hand on you?”

Cas has asked him that before, multiple times. Dean’s answer is always the same as it is now: “I don’t know.” He’s never managed it – he’s not exactly a teenager anymore – but he always tries as hard as he can, and he’s gotten pretty close a few times, with the cane. He enjoys trying, for Cas, and he knows that’s all Cas expects of him – that he’s never disappointed in Dean for not being able to.

“Try,” Cas says softly in Dean’s ear, and Dean nods obediently. Cas goes back to touching the needle hubs again, running his fingers over them and turning them. The burn of it, combined with the feeling of Cas’s cock against his prostate and its slow movements against Dean’s sensitive rim, brings Dean closer to the edge again. He feels pleasure coil in the pit of his stomach, so slowly and so intensely that it can almost be mistaken for pain somehow, but then the two are often the same for Dean anyway.

“I love you,” Dean exhales. It slips out of him, sometimes, during a scene or during sex, when he’s not paying attention to what he’s saying. That was how he first told Cas he loved him, before he'd blurted out his safeword in panic – and then Cas had stopped what he'd been doing, embraced Dean and told him emphatically that he loved him back.

“I know,” Cas says now, a hint of smugness in his voice, and Dean would tell him off for being a smart-ass if he wasn’t too preoccupied with the building pleasure inside him. Then Cas murmurs, “I love you too,” and bites into Dean’s neck below his ear, and Dean lets out an embarrassing, breathy moan.

“Fuck, Cas. ‘M close.”

“Can you come for me, Dean?” Cas asks, and Dean chases the feeling of pleasure, focuses on the feeling of Cas inside him; the sharp, hot sting of the needles as Cas twists them; the lingering pain where Cas bit him, but still he’s only _almost, almost, almost there._ He seems to have plateaued just before the point of no return, and it’s maddening, being so close to orgasm yet finding it just out of reach.

Cas takes pity on him and moves his hand from the needles on Dean’s thigh to his cock, and it takes only three strokes before Dean’s pleasure engulfs him like a tidal wave; he lets himself drown in it as he spills over the sheets in front of him.

“You’re amazing,” Cas says once Dean has come down from the high of his orgasm, thrusting slowly up into him. Dean makes a soft noise at the words; he himself can’t even tell whether it’s meant as dissent or reluctant acceptance, but it makes Cas repeat the sentiment: “You are, Dean. You’re the most incredible human being I have ever met.” His voice is beginning to tremble with arousal now that he’s made Dean come and is finally letting himself pay attention to his own pleasure.

Dean can’t help but savour the words, even while he doesn’t know if he agrees with them, but he never knows how to respond to Cas’s praise, so instead he grinds down into Cas’s lap. “Come inside me,” he begs. “Please.”

“I’ll never understand your obsession with having my seed inside of you,” Cas says, although his breathlessness lessens the effect of his words, not to mention the fact that Dean knows Cas loves filling Dean up just as much as Dean loves it. The times he’s plugged Dean up after coming inside him and made him wear the plug out in public speak for themselves.

“Love being marked by you,” Dean gasps. “No matter how.” The words have an effect on Cas, making his breath stutter, and then he speeds up, hands on Dean’s hips, pulling in sync with his own thrusts.

The movements draw Dean’s attention back to the needles again, making themselves known. Now that he has come and his arousal has passed, they don’t feel as good anymore; it feels weird, now, knowing that he has 24 needles stuck inside his skin, and he begins itching to get them out – but more than that, he wants Cas to reach his own orgasm.

“Why?” Cas asks, and Dean doesn’t understand what he means until he continues: “Why do you enjoy it when I mark you?”

“‘Cause I like the reminder that I’m yours.” It’s the answer Dean knows Cas hopes to hear, but he wouldn’t be saying it if it wasn’t the truth. Just like he knows Cas belongs to him. He reaches back to run a hand through Cas’s hair, to pull him closer, and it stretches the skin on his chest, but he ignores the stinging of the needles in favour of the sound of Cas’s breath speeding up, the feeling of Cas’s hips slamming faster against him.

“Say it again,” Cas tells him.

“I’m yours, Cas. Only yours. Always.”

And then there are no more words, only Cas’s lips against Dean’s neck, hips thrusting fast until they finally stutter and Cas breathes out shakily, emptying himself inside of Dean with a final few shallow thrusts.

“Mine,” Cas says after he's pulled out, and Dean can feel his smile against his neck.

“Yeah,” he says with a smile of his own. “You don’t like marking me, huh?”

Cas takes a moment to catch his breath before he responds. “I never said that. In fact, I quite enjoyed putting these in you." His fingers brushing the needles are gentler now, but the touch still makes Dean shiver.

"Too much?" Cas asks, as if reading Dean's mind.

"I liked it too," Dean is quick to reassure Cas, although he probably doesn't have to. "But... yeah. Can we maybe take them out now?"

"Of course," Cas agrees easily with a kiss to the back of Dean's neck before he reaches for their supplies. "And then you'll let me take care of you for the rest of the evening."

It's something Cas always insists on after they've played, and even on the times Dean doesn't drop, he still appreciates it. Of course, it helps that Cas taking care of him mostly entails of them lying in bed together (once Cas has made Dean drink and eat something), Cas spooning him and whispering praise in his ear while Dean pretends to sleep. He's pretty sure Cas can tell, but as long as he doesn't call him out on it, Dean doesn't see any reason to stop.

"You do too much for me," Dean says, turning around so he can meet Cas's eyes as well as give Cas access to the needles.

"No." Cas shakes his head. "The world has been too cruel to you, and I'm trying to set it right."

Dean doesn't know if other Doms are as sappy as Cas – if what they have is a typical D/s relationship – but he finds that he doesn't really care. What they have is perfect for them, and he loves his sappy angel Dom, even if he isn't sure he deserves him.

"Whatever," he grumbles, knowing Cas can see right through his gruffness. "Let's get these needles out of me."

"So we can get to the cuddling – yes, I know."

Dean doesn't bother arguing or telling Cas to wipe the smirk off his face; instead, he just relaxes and lets Cas take care of him. So they can get to the cuddling.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](https://tlakht.tumblr.com) :)


End file.
